Everly Yours
by celesticbliss
Summary: 1911 Chicago. Arrogant newspaper journalist Edward Cullen is determined to seduce Isabella, a beauty he spots in a famous brothel. Isabella has a closet full of secrets and heartache and must find a way to let Edward in without scaring him away. OOC/AH
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A new story that has been playing around in my head for months. This chapter has been collecting dust in my documents folder and I've decided to post and see if it generates enough interest to continue. **

**As always, the characters do not belong to me. I just enjoy throwing them into a new time era and seeing how they find each other. **

_1911_

Mahogany hair, hazel eyes, full lips. Sun-kissed skin despite the chilled season and a slim yet curved figure. Heart shaped face, full brown locks fell to her waist in soft finger waves. Her small fingers held a champagne glass and I watched as she brought it to her lips to take a sip. I had to restrain myself when her small pink tongue darted out to catch the remaining drip of liquid from her pouted bottom lip.

How had I not seen her before? I'd been to the club countless times, mainly to entertain my friends who were regulars here. But I always spent my fair share on food and champagne so that I was always welcome back. The owners seemed to have a soft spot for me as well as any other workers for the paper even if I didn't care to spend anything on the courtesans who advertised themselves to me week after week.

But if you asked me about the brown haired deity standing mere feet away from me? I may tell you a different story. I ignored the men at my table as they paid me the same favor. They were making their selections for the evening. Before too long they would bid me _adieu _and I would leave a weighted tip with the sisters and make my way home.

Ada and Minna stood at the stairwell to make their usual end of the night speech.

I'd heard the spiel too many times to remember but it always started the same. The sisters would introduce their girls, the Everleigh Butterflies as we, the press, were instructed to name them. Her favored girls would stand and bat their eyes to the drooling dogs around them. The woman that caught my eye never stood. The thought baffled me. This girl protruded beauty more than anyone I'd come across in my life. I'd assume she would be the first to stand. Ada finished the speech with her usual-

"_You have the whole night before you and one $50 client is more desirable than five $10 ones. Less wear and tear!"_

The crowd hollered around me, panting to get their hands on the display before them.

As suspected, my company then told me goodnight and followed their purchases up the winded staircase. I wouldn't hear from them until the next morning when they waited for me with bated breath to tell me the mirrored stories as the weeks before.

I stood and finished the champagne in my glass when my eyes met Minna. She smiled expectedly, I assumed she was waiting for me to leave then, per usual. Instead, I crossed the hardwood floor towards the mystery woman.

I was curious to know the look on Minna's face when I approached one of her girls. She'd told me for ten years that it would happen eventually. I looked back at her once more and tipped my hat to tell her that she was indeed right.

Sisters Ada and Minna Everleigh owned the self-named establishment. They had turned up almost eleven years before that night and taken Chicago by storm. It was one of the most well-known brothels in our area. Men came from miles to see the famous well-mannered whores, in the words of the men in town.

It wasn't the normal brothel by any means; this one was bright and alive. The women were attractive and well spoken. The sisters made a pretty penny and used some of their funds to keep the law under their hand so that the club could keep running smoothly.

I didn't necessarily agree with the business but I respected the sisters enough to keep my mouth shut. I knew there was nothing I could particularly do about it but I could never bring myself to pay for a girl.

I still didn't intend to.

I approached the cherry wood table where she stood, cigarette in her gloved hand. I knew the instant her façade went up, it was plain to see when the light died in her eyes. I was her customer, and she was prepared to sell.

Her tongue darted once again across her blood red lips as the smoke filtered out. My body instantly reacted to her but I knew I wasn't the first. I was another ticket, another man in line, another client interested in buying her body. She eyed me up and down and fixed her smile.

"Evenin' sugar," her words infiltrated my mind and my knees weakened. Surely she knew this power she held over me? I couldn't be hiding it that well.

"Evening." I replied, taking her vacant hand in mine and kissing the silk that covered it. I instantly longed to peel the glove off and touch her skin with mine.

"What can I do you for Green-eyes?" She asked, the irony on her statement not lost as the smile pulled wider on her mouth.

I knew the night was coming to an end and she would be whisked away by another man in minutes if I didn't act now. I didn't want to buy her body, only her time.

"The pleasure of your company is all, ma'am. " I held my arm out to her which she took instantly. She put her cigarette out at the table and nodded to her companions while leading me to the set of stairs I'd seen so many walk up before me.

"I've seen you," she said, as we took each step slowly, "never upstairs though." She hummed and smirked up at me. "Am I your first? "

"In some ways, yes. You may be calling me a first of sorts after the night is through as well." I replied cryptically.

She cocked her eyebrow at me and kept leading me up. We passed Minna on our path and she tilted her head towards us.

"Mr. Cullen! I see you've finally taken us up on what we have to offer you here. Though, I'm a little surprised at your selection." She said without hiding the sneer towards the woman on my arm.

There was an unspoken conversation between the two before Minna finally nodded and smiled in my direction.

"I do hope you enjoy your evening Mr. Cullen. Please inform me if it is anything but extraordinary."

She finished her sentence with one last glance towards our linked arms then continued past us.

I looked over and could swear I saw a hint of a blush on mystery woman's rouged cheek.

"What is your name?" I blurted out before thinking. I needed to know then, before we went any further.

"Isabella." She whispered before rolling her shoulders and shaking her head as if to dispel an unwanted fear.

She looked up at me again with her façade and smiled.

"Shall we?" She asked and opened the last door in the hall. It was the only door without a number and name painted on. A detail that didn't escape me, but managed to intrigue me more.

* * *

**Thanks always to my awesome ficwife QuantunFizzx for well, being awesome and betaing this last minute. I love you! Ferla held my hand as well 3**

**I should mention that this story will be loosely based on the true story of The Everleigh Club that did exist in 1900 Chicago. It's a really interesting stor**y!


	2. Chapter 2

She walked, agonizingly slow with a sway of the hips, to the gold vanity in the far corner of the room. This piece of furniture looked to be the most expensive in her quarters. As she pulled her gloves off, one finger at a time, I took the opportunity to look around.

I'd never visited a room on the second floor before, so I had nothing to compare this one to, but I couldn't imagine the others looking like this. The grand room below us was richly colored in golden tones and red. Every piece of furniture was custom to fit the sister's tastes to accommodate the plethora of men that come through nightly. It was hard to understand the drastic change from there to Isabella's room.

Isabella's room was plain. Ignoring the vanity she was now sitting in front of, everything else was simplistic, neutral, boring. Everything Isabella was not, in her physical form, at least.

I walked slowly toward her, watching her eyes on mine in the gold plated mirror. Her stare never faltered, even when I pulled her curtain of curls over to one shoulder. Running my fingers back over the length of her shoulder, I momentarily forgot my intentions when a lusted haze fell over her face.

Back and forth, my fingers danced on her skin. Up her neck, and down again. Forward, into the dip of her collarbone, and backward along the lines of her shoulder blade. I dipped my head down, running my nose along the back of her head, inhaling the soft, faint scent of some delicate aroma.

Lilac, maybe…strawberry? No matter, it was intoxicating all the same.

I gently placed my hands on the vanity in front of her, bending my neck lower, closer, my lips sampling the space behind her ear. Instantly, her skin erupted in goose-bumps, and like an alcoholic willingly thrusting himself off the wagon, I began to give in to temptation.

"These were not my intentions when I asked to come here," I whispered, continuing my feathered kisses, "but I don't think I can resist."

I glanced up to catch her eyes in the mirror again. As quickly as the lust came, it left her.

Ah, the façade was back.

"Take me now, please," she spoke softly. Heartbreakingly. Pointedly. Closing her eyes, her head fell back methodically. Not as if she was giving in to the pleasure she so wanted, but as if she was doing what she should, what she must. She may have been a whore willing to sell herself to me, but I was not a monster willing to take what she preferred not to give.

Another piece to the Isabella puzzle.

I took a step back. Then another. I needed her scent out of my nose and the feeling of her flesh erased from my mind.

Her eyes opened again, widened this time. I was only to assume it was in shock at my distance.

"I told you that is not my intention. I was mistaken, I do think I can resist after all." I sat on the torn bench behind me and took off my hat. Another look flashed across her face. Had I hurt her guarded feelings? I could not imagine rejection would hurt her so. As many men say yes, I have to assume she has even more that say no when they have such a wide collection to choose from. Though, I don't know how any sane man could resist this temptress in front of me.

I wanted to make it clear that I would get what I intended to purchase; her time.

"I don't understand. I'm sorry if I misled you, Mr. Cullen," she stood and walked towards me, then, façade firmly in place, "I am a whore. A courtesan. I bed you, and in return, you pay me. That is what happens on the second floor of this establishment." Her eyes closed, her eyebrows knitted together. "That is what I need to happen."

I sensed a hint of urgency in her voice. A slight tremble in her skin? I was no professional at this game by any means but I couldn't help to wonder if she'd done this before. Maybe I was the first to turn her down? Though, she didn't seem to take no for an answer.

Her eyes opened again, her cold stare penetrating.

Pushing me back onto the chaise, Isabella lifted her skirt and straddled me. I had no time to react before I felt her heat grinding against my previously hard cock. Her lips made their own assault on my skin, beginning at my jaw and trailing down. Back and forth, she created her own rhythm.

Rub, grind, push.

Kiss, lick, bite.

Careful to avoid my lips, to avoid sensuality.

This perfect stranger was good at her game. I still sensed her urgency. Her need to fuck me and send me on my way was unnerving. This alone was my ailment to her curse. I wouldn't give in until the day she begged me to stay and please her, and only her.

I did not want to own any part of her, only what she shared with me freely.

I pushed her back, keeping her on my lap but detaching those sweet lips from my skin.

"I have every intention of paying you," I said, relaxing back onto the bench, "but I only want your time. I'd like to know you."

Her eyes focused in on mine. She was searching for truth in my statement. I held up my hands in surrender to show I had nothing to hide.

I did indeed, have nothing to hide. I am a creature of habit. A drone.

The next day I would, as per usual, return to work sitting at a small desk in a dimly lit corner, baiting consciousness while the lullabies of typewriters worked against me. That night I would be here for my free nightcap and enduring my routine persistence from the sisters. But in that moment, everything had changed.

I wondered if Isabella sensed the change she made in me. A change I did not know I had needed so desperately. I'd been content in my monotone life before. Happy, even. But like a magnet, I found a pull.

I'd stay here the full night if I had to. I would make Isabella mine, if it took every last penny I'd earned in my adult life.

"I must ask you, Isabella," I let my fingers walk up her thigh, "am I your first?"

**A/N: Thankyou to AcrossTheSkyInStars and Annie for Betaing/Pre-Reading this for me!**

**This story will not be very long. I'm just stretching out what was originally a one-shot written for a contest that I never entered. So, the chapters are short, but after this one, much progress will be made in the storyline.**


	3. Chapter 3

"In almost every way, Mr. Cullen."

Her words gave me whiplash. In almost every way? Was this her first night? Was I her first customer, or her first to-be lover? Both? I couldn't choose a question to ask. She didn't give me the chance.

She lifted herself from me and returned to her vanity once again. Her safe place, I assumed.

"I think I understand now, Green Eyes. You may see yourself out. I will not be your feature in the morning's print." Her hands were shaking, her lips taught.

I did not move.

"Pardon me if I seem to overstep here, Isabella, but I'm tiring of this game we're playing. I am no feature writer and I have no interest in sharing you with anyone, let alone any soul who picks up a paper." I stood and walked the perimeter of the room, letting my fingers slide along the crown molding centered on the wall. "I don't know why I am so drawn to you. I intend to find out by the end of this night."

I took a moment to glance down at my pocket watch.

"And it looks to me that we still have six hours at least 'til sunrise."

I stopped my pace next to her vanity and laid out every last penny I had on me, which just so happened to be my entire cashed paycheck I'd received only that day.

She stood, turned, and placed her hand squarely in my chest.

"Mr. Cullen, if you think for one moment it is you who has chosen me, then you are gravely mistaken. I chose you. I've seen you, for months. You come in here and you order champagne. Four glasses, five on payday. You watch your mates choose a courtesan and you wait until the last one leaves the table. You tip Ada, you kiss Minna on the cheek, and you go."

She cried then. I watched, mesmerized, at the tears dropping from her jawline.

"You look at every woman here as a woman. Not as a purchase. You've never set foot on that damn stairwell until tonight. You've never stared longingly as if you couldn't afford. You only observe. I haven't the slightest idea as to what your intentions are, but I know that I see kindness in your eyes."

She reached up, ghosting her fingertips over my eyes, causing me to close them. Then, she placed both palms against my cheeks and tilted my head down. I opened my gaze again to her. I could swear at that moment I knew everything I needed to ever know about her just by the look in her eyes.

"I chose you. I need your help. But now I'm afraid. I'm afraid that I've watched you too long, planned so much and finally worked up the nerve to bring you to me, only to see that you are exactly as kind as I thought, and I've already gone and fallen in love with you."

I sucked in my breath and held it. Waited for the smile, the giggle, the punch line that told me this was all a part of her courtesan act. But it never came. I only saw the deepest sincerity I'd ever come across in my life.

"And yes, I know that is entirely preposterous and I'm a silly, silly girl. So tell me now if your intentions are anything but what you've said. Break my heart now before we go any further. After I tell you mine, it's not only my heart you would break, but my life as well."

I had no words. My body spoke for my faltering brain.

I took her in my arms and held on for my dear life. My world had changed in an instant and I wanted her. Isabella. Beauty.

I carried her to her bed and laid her down. Leaning down over her, I used my lips to clean the tears from her face. My caresses turned to kisses, soft and trailing down her face, across her jaw, along her neck.

My hands encircled her, pulling at the strings of the corset containing her. When she was finally free from it, my mouth sucked her nipple in swiftly, causing her back to arch and a soft moan to escape.

Her tiny hands planted in my hair, pulling and pushing, guiding me.

My mind began to catch up; I needed to speak to her.

I moved back up, placing my mouth against her ear.

"Everything inside me loves everything about you, Isabella. I want you, now…tomorrow, forever. Whatever it takes, I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine."

She tipped my face up to look at me. I did everything in my power to show her my sincerity. I had to believe she saw it, because she brought my face down and crashed my lips to hers. Something she seemed to avoid earlier.

I returned the fevered kiss, sweeping my tongue across her lips. She sucked it into her mouth instantly. Our tongues danced with each other, never pushing to dominate the other. Instead, they caressed each other.

Isabella's hands made quick work of my vest, opening each button one by one then doing the same on my shirt. When she finished, she pushed at my shoulders, bringing the fabric down onto my arms. Propping myself up one arm at a time, I removed the clothing while she did the same with my pants.

I couldn't find the power to take my lips from her; I was quickly becoming addicted to the sweet and spiced taste of her skin. If I was addicted, then I would consider Isabella my drug of choice for the rest of my life.

I threw myself into her, plunging deep. I stilled, realizing instantly that she was tighter than any woman I'd ever bedded. An odd thing, considering I was in a whore house. But no, not my Isabella. I think I'd always known she wasn't one of them.

I moved slowly, in and out. Feather-light breaths fell from her lips, a soft moan with every other one.

Kissing her eyelids once they fluttered closed, I switched between the two. I opened my mouth and moved down, kissing her cheek while moving south, letting my lip catch on her skin. I stopped at her jaw and bit down only slightly.

She threw her legs around my waist and tightened, holding me still, deep inside. She came on me, clenching tight, pulling me in deeper.

The sensation was overwhelming; almost enough to bring me to my own climax.

When her body relaxed, she pushed on my chest, forcing me to pull out of her. She sat up and whispered in my ear to lie down.

She straddled my waist and grabbed a hold my cock, lining me up, and then sinking down swiftly. I sucked in a breath of air, and pushed my hips up, lifting her from the bed, making her weight shift solely on me. I was as deep as I could possibly get at this angle.

I ran my hands up her thighs, her waist, finding prize on her perfect, taught breasts. I cupped them, and ran my thumb over her nipples.

When I sank back down onto the bed, Isabella rode me hard. Her breasts rocked in my hands, so I tightened my grip. Her silhouette above me was intensely beautiful. The soft light in the room accented her only slightly to me, but I could still see her soft facial features.

Eyes closed, mouth agape, all but the small piece of her lip being held by her teeth.

She was going to come again.

She screamed out, inhaling deep and stilling on top of me. This time, there was no holding back on my part. When I felt her close on me, I tensed and moved one hand to grab a hold of her hip, and emptied into her.

She leaned forward, resting her forehead against mine. Still inside of her as we came down from our climaxes.

"I need you," she whispered.

"You have me," I replied simply.

"No, Edward, I need your help. We have to leave."

"Pack," I said pointedly, relieved that she was already thinking the same thing I was.

"It's not that easy," she said, rolling off me, "Edward, there's another thing you should know about me."

I waved my hand for her to continue.

"My name is Isabella Everleigh."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry about the impromptu hiatus :( It came out of nowhere but I'm back! I plan on writing the rest of this quickly, as it's only going to be about 10 chapters. Remember, this is rooted from a true story! If anything sounds familiar, it belongs to it's respected owner.**

**A million thank yous to my beta AcrossTheSkyInStars. She's my partner in crime for the story Stranger in the Elevator and all around an awesome friend. **


	4. Chapter 4

_My name is Isabella Everleigh._

_._

_._

_._

I stood carefully and walked to her, pulling my clothes up on my way. Her fingers were fumbling with the strings of her corset; her breaths were shaky and ragged. She was terrified.

I took the strings from her shaking fingers and tied the rest in silence. I placed a kiss on her shoulder when I finished. I wasn't going to bait for more information. She'd give it to me when she was ready.

She walked to her armoire and produced a bag from the drawer beneath. Ever step she took became stronger, she was regaining her confidence.

I sat on the stool to her vanity and took one of her cigarettes from the silver box. Inhaling deep, I watched her pack.

Before too long, she was strong enough to speak.

"I was my father's favorite child," she smiled to herself, and then resumed packing, explaining, "I never asked to be, I never baited for his attention. I just simply was. My mother was closer to my older sisters."

She paused to look at me, to silently point out that she was speaking of Ada and Minna.

"The three of them hated the relationship I had with my father. I was out-casted by my siblings and my mother because of something I could only describe as jealousy."

She stopped and pulled a picture from her bedside table. She looked at it longingly, painfully, before handing it to me.

I assumed the picture was of a young Isabella and her father. She looked like a bright and happy young girl, and her father looked proud.

"How the hell could I have done any different?" she yelled, then composed herself.

"I was a child, Edward. He favored the baby of the family, and I did not know any different. When I was fourteen, my father died from consumption. My mother took over his estate. In his will, he made it clear that each of his children would have a share. It did not define how much each was to have, so naturally I'm only owed a small fraction. This is the only thing I was allowed to keep from my father." She gestured at the vanity.

She finished packing and set the bag under the window. She took a moment to check her dainty pocket watch, then sat and lit a cigarette of her own.

"My mother ran the original brothel, and then passed away shortly after. Imagine my surprise when I learned about my father's profession. My sisters took over and transferred here, agreeing to keep me only for legal reasons. If they didn't, then I could, by law, go after my small portion. So I've stayed with them, had clothes on my back, food on my table, and a bed to lie in every night. They've opened the floor to let me bring men upstairs before but I've always refused. But don't get me wrong, they won't hesitate to show their distaste for me."

This brought a smirk to her face, probably remembering the reaction she got when she brought me upstairs.

"There's a loophole, Edward. I finally got a hold of my father's will and read it with my own eyes. If for any reason the estate is sold, then the money must be split equally between my father's children. Ada and Minna kept this from me for obvious reasons. But if I can find a way to force them to sell then I am free. I'll have my cut and I can walk away without ever looking back."

Her smile was bigger now, her cheeks tearstained.

"I need your help. I don't know how, and maybe I jumped the gun by bringing you up here tonight, but I couldn't stand just watching you one night longer." She reached over and grabbed my hand. She pulled it up, and cupped her own cheek with my palm.

"I want to leave tonight, with you."

I plucked the cigarette from her fingers and extinguished it.

"And so you will. I have an idea, but we need to leave. Now."

.

.

.

Isabella and I snuck out through the window, a task she told me she did often. She liked to walk outside in the middle of the night when the streets were empty. The lattice on the back of the building made this easy.

I brought her to my apartment first and left her belongings there. Isabella didn't shed a tear for the Everleigh Club at our backs as we walked away.

I took her then to my place of work. I only had an hour or so before men would start arriving. I needed to work fast.

"Are you going to let me into your plan?" Isabella asked, taking seat on the desk next to mine.

I held up a blank sheet of paper.

She waved her hand in front of her, inviting me to elaborate.

"What is the appeal of the Everleigh?" I asked her.

"Expensive drinks…expensive food…expensive Girls…you've got me," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

I shook my head, a grin played at my mouth.

"The privacy," I added, "men can go in, have a nightcap, be taken to bed by a stranger, and then be at work the next morning without missing a step. Nobody knows except for the circle. The only reason the paper hasn't outted it yet is because your sisters know how to bribe."

I placed the sheet in the type writer and set the font. I began to type, leaving Isabella still confused.

"There," I said, pulling the paper out of the machine and handing it to Isabella, "I think a few copies of this around town and on a few desks might raise a few eyebrows."

I sat back in my chair with my hands fastened behind my head. I followed her eyes down the flyer, and noticed the smile forming on her face.

The answer was right in front of us, if we advertise the club to the people who mattered, then the secret would be uncovered, and the sisters would be forced to leave. Well, two out of three of them anyway.

"But wait," Isabella's eyebrows knitted in the center, "what about your job? What if they find out it was you?"

"Easy, we're leaving. We're starting over, somewhere else. Together."

She squealed and jumped into my lap, covering my lips with hers.

**Thanks always to my amazing friend/beta AcrossTheSkyInStars. She rocks my world.**


	5. Chapter 5

**So, this is a bit overdue, yeah? This was always how the story would end, and I'm sorry it took me so long. I took an impromptu hiatus on writing and I'm back full force now! Like I've mentioned before, this is based on the true story of The Everleigh. The story fascinates me and I loved coming up with my own explanation. I hope you enjoy!**

**My partner in crime, AcrossTheSkyInStars beta'd this, she is fantastic as always! You should read her fic 'The Hunt'. I adore it!**

* * *

Our Dearest Isabella,

You've disappeared from us, and let us not kid ourselves into thinking it was for any other reason than what it was.

Not to worry, we've left Chicago with ease. It took us a good while to track you, and we have no intentions of instilling fear inside of you. Stay there, stay anywhere. Enclosed is what you are owed for your namesake. The only thing we ask is that you no longer be one. Be no longer an Everleigh, cut your ties from us, and move along.

For what you've done, we could have you killed. But, neither of us could possibly stomach the thought of what our father would think. So, we've freed you. You've run us out of our business and living in Chicago, but we were growing tired of it anyway.

May this be the last contact we have.

Everly Yours,

Ada & Minna Everleigh

.

.

.

Isabella plucked the flowered paper from my fingertips when I finished reading. I looked up to her and was met with her ever beautiful smile.

We'd done it. We had printed an advertisement and placed it on every telephone pole and official desk we could get to in the short amount of time. Only one mattered.

The mayor took notice of the flyer, and though he'd known about the club for some time, he had no choice but to shut them down. He couldn't have open advertisement of a brothel on his clean streets.

This forced Ada and Minna to sell and run. They weren't aware of Isabella's knowledge in their father's will, but from the looks of their letter, they didn't want to take a chance. They gave up her portion and cut ties.

Isabella beamed every day in her newfound freedom.

Our deed was never discovered, somehow. My employment at the paper was safe. Isabella and I remained in Chicago for our lifetime and raised our children, and theirs, in that town.

We were not eager to tell anyone how we came together. Our story usually takes place in a smoky bar, and is always described as love at first sight.

True enough, without every detail.

Until now, that is.

**The End.**


End file.
